


The Heavenly Host's Guide to Human Conduct

by anastiel



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Frottage, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Memory Erasure, Non-Penetrative Sex, Torture, Whipping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-28
Updated: 2014-08-28
Packaged: 2018-02-15 02:49:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2212908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anastiel/pseuds/anastiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There are four rules every angel is taught to follow. Castiel disobeys every single one of them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Heavenly Host's Guide to Human Conduct

_Rule #1: Do not take orders from humans. The only orders one should be following are from the archangels which come from God himself. Humans are deceiving creatures. God created them with the ability to lie, to twist and manipulate one into obeying their commands. They live to serve themselves and their kin, they care not for our interests nor for God’s. When dealing with them do not get too close. Letting your guard down for even a moment could be lethal. They will not hesitate to make you fall._

“What would you have me do?” Cas asks, pleading with him. He wants to help the Winchesters, but there are restrictions that keep him from giving over his control into their hands.

“Get me to Sam. We can stop this before it’s too late.” Dean states firmly.

“I do that, we will all be hunted. We’ll all be killed.”

“If there is anything worth dying for... this is it.”

Cas wants to do what Dean asks, he does. But everything feels wrong. The angels shouldn’t be doing this, yet they are. All he wants to do is stop this, stop the fighting and perhaps through Dean and Sam he could do so. But that requires an act of disobedience against heaven, punishable by death. An internal struggle rages within, one side pulling Cas back home and the other towards Dean, towards death.  Cas stares into Dean’s green eyes, filled with fire and determination and shakes his head slightly. He can’t. Dean’s jaw twitches in anger, he’s disappointed. For some reason this hurts more than the prospect of being killed. He curses at Cas and tells him he’s done. With a flutter of wings Cas vanishes, leaving him alone. It hurts too much to remain in the same room with him.

Soft grass meets Cas’s feet when he lands in a meadow near a line of rolling hills covered in little yellow daisies. He plops down onto the grass, bringing his knees up to his chest and curling his arms around them making himself into a ball. Then, he thinks.

Anna told him that he was beginning to feel emotion. She is correct, he feels more now than he ever has in the entirety of his millions of years of life and all due to the eldest Winchester. Emotion opens doorways to doubt. Does he doubt? Yes, and that fact alone scares him. He doubts their mission, the apocalypse. It doesn’t feel good and humane to kill the entire population of humans. Sure there are a few bad mingled in with the millions of good, but shouldn’t that be enough of a reason to allow them to live? He doubts God. God wouldn’t want this, he is too kind, to merciful for such a ruthless act. But if he’s not giving the orders, then who is and why should Castiel listen?

He drags his fingers through a cluster of flowers, sliding his fingers down to the roots and pulling a bunch from the warm dirt. The blooms lay in his hand, straight and even, small petals brushing against his palm. The flowers are alive right now but in a few hours their leaves will begin to wilt and eventually they will die, twisting into a dried broken crumple then decaying and returning to dust. Humans and flowers, they aren’t that different at all, Castiel realizes. Both have short precious lives, but can make the world brighter with their beauty.

Castiel lays the flowers down on the dirt where he pulled them from the ground and stands to his feet. His life may not be short but Dean Winchester’s is and Castiel doesn’t want to let him down.

~

_Rule #2: When battling alongside humans, comradery is encouraged. Humans are God’s creatures and we are meant to protect them, that is the job our Father bestowed upon us. However, we must not show them love. Give them protection and heal their wounds, but do not care about them. Love is a weakness, a fatal flaw. Do not let such a fleeting emotion weaken your reserve. Emotion is forbidden._

Most of the time Castiel feels empty, a gaping hole, large and alien within his chest that has never been filled by the comfort of his family. Sometimes he doesn’t believe he has a purpose, it’s as if he is a lost man wandering through a barren desert, no thought to where he is going, driven only by orders from his superiors and his actions contained by rules that have existed for millions of years. But then he met Dean and found a purpose, to help The Righteous Man and his brother save the world. This prospect seemed so simple originally. Castiel believed it would be easy enough for him to keep his distance, to keep his heart at bay - he’d never had problems with doing so in the past. He couldn’t have been more wrong.

Castiel realizes the presence of his emotion in one single instant. It should have been a normal day. Dean, Sam and Cas were returning to the motel after an intense fight with a large group of demons while on their quest for the devil. With Cas there, they all worked together to quickly get rid of the demons, returning to safety with minor injuries. Sam had a sprained wrist and a few lacerations on his shoulder. Castiel healed these easily. Dean on the other hand, though his injuries were slightly more severe than Sam’s - a couple broken fingers, a deep cut on his abdomen and a concussion - he refused when Cas offered to heal him. Dean stalked off to the bathroom to clean up his cuts and wrap bandages around his injured fingers, leaving Cas standing in the middle of the hotel room with a dejected look on his face. He turns to Sam who gives him a shrug, then heads out the door to go get them all food, leaving Castiel alone. Despite his instinct telling him that he probably shouldn’t bother Dean right now, Castiel walks over to the bathroom door and knocks anyway.

“Dean,” Castiel states. He can hear water running from the faucet behind the door.

“Did I do something wrong?” Castiel asks when he receives no answer.

Dean sighs audibly then the water flicks off and the door opens with a click, revealing a disheveled Dean, shirt removed exposing the angry, gash across his chest and five blueing fingers.

“No... I just...” Another sigh, Castiel tilts his head to the side and Dean rolls his eyes, “Oh, what the hell, just come in.”

Castiel steps through the door into the small bathroom, barely big enough for two people to stand comfortably in. His hands hang awkwardly empty at his sides, his shoulder brushes Dean’s every few seconds. Dean cleans his wound, cringing at the sting of the alcohol he dumps into the gash. Cas watches silently, feeling utterly useless and frowning at Dean’s insistence to take care of himself.

“I can help you,” Cas offers quietly but receives a firm shake of the head.

“No, I got it,” Dean replies, stubbornly, tearing open the package of bandages with his teeth. He pulls out the sterile cloth, attempting to wrap it around his injured hand, but fails miserably. The cloth keeps dropping down and not staying in the correct spot. Dean grunts, glaring at the bandage. Castiel lets him try a few more times then reaches over and gently takes Dean’s hand in his and the bandage in his other.

“If you will not let me heal you, the least I can do is help.”

Dean looks up at him, green eyes flashing in defiance at first but when he realizes Cas isn’t going to let up, he drops his gaze and nods.

“Fine.”

Cas’s careful hands wrap the bandage around Dean’s hand, binding his fingers together tightly. When Cas finishes up with Dean’s hand he automatically moves to tend to the gash on Dean’s chest. Dean reaches out with his good hand, grabbing Cas’s wrist to stop him.

“Why are you doing this?”

Dean’s staring at him, brows furrowed. If Cas knew any better he’d think Dean was angry, but there’s a slight tinge of pinks on his cheeks that says otherwise.

“Because I care,” Cas replies automatically, but as the words leave his mouth he freezes.

_Love is a weakness, a fatal flaw._

Dean raises an eyebrow skeptically, dropping his hold on Cas’s wrist, “You do? I thought that you guys.. didn’t even know what that word meant.”

Cas drops his eyes, picking up a clean, damp washcloth and dabbing at the wound on Dean’s chest.

“You were mistaken.”

Dean stays silent, letting Cas take care of him. He watches Cas’s hands with rapt attention while Cas expertly stitches up the gash, neatly and tightly with careful fingers. Cas focuses on Dean, ignoring the buzzing from angel radio in his head and the sick feeling of dread rising in his stomach. He doesn’t want to go back to heaven. not now, not after they’ve heard him admit his grievous sin.

“Thanks,” Dean says softly, with a gentle smile when Cas is finished.

Cas looks up at him, feeling all the weight lifted off of his shoulders for a brief moment under Dean’s gaze. He’s falling, twirling and spiraling into an ocean of green and nothing can stop him.

“You’re welcome,” Cas answers, placing a hand on Dean’s shoulder solemnly. It’s an intimate touch, Castiel knows this. Heat rises on his face, an entirely human reaction that he shouldn’t even be feeling. His hand drops from Dean’s shoulder as if burned.

“I will return soon,” Cas states, “Stay safe,” He adds, vanishing in a flutter of wings and flapping, leaving Dean alone and wondering what the hell just happened.

~

_Rule #3: The touch of a human corrupts. Even a simple touch on the hand or shoulder can cause one to doubt, to feel. Human touch draws these emotions out until one is so consumed with feeling everything else is a blurry haze and the mission is forgotten. This is unacceptable and will be severely punished._

The end of the world is nigh, Lucifer is practically in their grasp. No one knows if they are going to make it out alive and emotions are running rampant. Dean is more physical now, whether this is due to his potentially imminent demise or not, Castiel doesn’t know. But he has a habit of resting lingering touches on Cas’s shoulder, the flat of his back and brushing his fingers against Cas’s while they are walking. At first Cas doesn’t think much of these gestures. The touches are nice, comforting and send a warmth rushing through him. But soon he finds himself wanting Dean to touch him more, to smile at him in that bright way of his that makes Cas’s heartbeat quicken. His mind drifts to what if would feel like for Dean to touch his skin, not merely a simple brushing of his fingers but his hands sliding across his body, gentle but firm.

Warning bells go off in his head and he quenches those thoughts immediately. If the angels hear him, who knows what they will do. Castiel tries to focus on the mission, the apocalypse but he can’t. He stands too close to Dean all the time, bumping into his shoulder when he walks by and staring just a little too long. He’s hopelessly in love and so lost that when the angels drag him up to heaven in an angry horde,  he isn’t surprised. They strip him of his clothes, tying his hands and feet like a prisoner, leaving him exposed and shamed to the hosts of heaven

“Castiel, what on earth do you think you are doing?” One of his superiors barks at him. Her eyes are flashing in anger as she stalks around him in a circle.

“I’m helping the Winchesters,” Castiel says calmly, daring to look her in the eye.

She laughs coldly, flipping an angel blade around in her hands, “Helping? Hardly. You are falling Castiel, you are letting the desire for one man get the best of you. You are an abomination.”

“No,” Castiel bites out.

“What did you say?” She asks, taking a few steps toward him.

“I said no. Why are we not allowed to feel? Are we not supposed to care for the humans? How are we to care for them if we cannot feel love.

“Love is beneath us Castiel, humans are beneath us. They are dirty, selfish,  animals who care not for God’s orders.”

Cas shakes his head, defiantly, “They are not bad, they are good. Their souls are pure. They do the best they can.”

“You will regret this, Castiel,” She says, holding out her angel blade which is replaced with a whip.

Castiel stands straight, head held high, “So be it.”

One hundred lashes would kill a human, but for angel it is torture. Castiel is crying, he’s never cried before, but it hurts, it hurts so fucking bad. No matter how loudly he screams they don’t stop. He wonders why they don’t just kill him, that would be easier, quicker and he wouldn’t cause them any trouble again. This probably pleases them more, seeing him suffer like this. Each stinging lash strikes across his wings and back, pulling off clumps of feathers and tender flesh, tearing through skin nearly all the way down to the bone. He feels like he’s on fire, intense heat soaring across his back, burning just like he did in hell. His head starts to spin, his body shaking, he’s going to pass out soon. Cas closes his eyes and thinks of green eyes and the warmth of Dean’s hands.

~ **  
**

_Rule #4: Angels must never fornicate with humans, it is forbidden. For an angel to allow lust to take hold of their minds and corrupt their heavenly bodies is a grievous sin and will be punished fiercely. Offspring produced from angelic and human encounters are abominations and should be treated as such, killed by execution. Angels are not to feel lust for a human, if needed they may fornicate with one another, but never with mortals, lest their muddled, dirty souls meld with the brightness of heaven dampening the pure light of God._

Castiel returns to Dean and Sam a week following his punishment. His wounds are mostly healed, though the scars on his back and the damage done to his wings is permanent. His brothers and sisters - the ones still sympathetic towards him - cleaned him and healed him the best they could, but the damage was too great to be mended completely. He flies slower now, his usual journey to earth taking five seconds instead of three. Castiel wants to be bitter, he wants to be more angry than he is but the fact that he will be seeing Dean clears all of the bad feelings rotting inside him.

He arrives into Dean and Sam’s hotel room, stirring up a breeze with the flapping of his wings, knocking a few loose papers onto the floor. Sam looks up at him from the desk, pen poised in his hand and Dean gets up from the bed.

“Where have you been? I’ve called you a dozen times!” Dean says gruffly, walking over to Cas.

“I was... detained,” Cas states, avoiding Dean’s eyes, staring down at the pumice yellow carpet instead.

“Are you okay?” Dean asks softly, hand falling to Cas’s shoulder.

Cas finally raises his eyes, smiling at Dean slightly, “I am now.”

Dean’s lips twitch and he looks awkwardly over at Sam.

"Hey Sam, can you uh... give us a minute.”

Sam raises an eyebrow, glancing back and forth between the two of them. His eyes widen and he gathers up his laptop, books and cellphone.

“Yeah, sure. I’m gonna go to the library, take as long as you need,” Sam replies, then he’s out the door.  The impala revs, squealing around the corner.

“What happened?” Dean asks once Sam is gone, wrapping his fingers around Cas’s wrist and tugging him towards the bed.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Cas replies, plopping down next to Dean on the cushy mattress.

“Cas.”

“Dean, no. It is not of import,” Cas states firmly, hoping Dean will give up.

Dean narrows his eyes and Cas looks away from his gaze. The longer Dean stares at him, the more his resolve weakens.

“Did they hurt you?” Dean asks finally, after staring at Cas for what seems like an eternity.

“Dean,” Cas pleads, shaking his head, fighting back the flood of words and emotions that threaten to spill out.

“Did they?!”

Cas bites his lip, nodding slowly, “Yes.”

Dean clenches his fist, “Why?”

“I’ve begun to express too much emotion.”

“Because of me,” Dean blurts out, not even knowing if he is right.

There’s a long pause and Dean waits, breathlessly for Cas response.

“Yes, because of you,” Cas replies, dropping Dean’s gaze and turning to stare out the window. At least then he won’t have to see the rejection in Dean’s eyes. Dean could never reciprocate what Cas feels for him. He’d rather hear Dean yell at him then see the look of disgust on his face.

But Dean doesn’t yell, he doesn’t even say anything. His silence is tense, a heavy fog in the room. Cas wants to fly away, to get out of this room but he can’t move he’s frozen in place.

“Cas,” Dean says gently, breaking the silence. Soft fingertips slide along Cas’s cheek, turning his head away from the window and back to Dean.

“Show me where they hurt you.”

Cas shakes his head, a few traitorous tears falling down his cheeks.

“You helped me once, let me help you,” Dean says, threading his fingers through Cas’s, smiling slightly.

Cas looks down at their joined hands in surprise, teary eyes widening. He raises his head and looks at Dean.

“Okay.”

Dean’s hand slides down from his cheek to the side of his neck. Dean is smiling and that fact alone quells the worry twisting in his stomach. When Dean surges forward, capturing Cas’s lips in gentle but firm kiss, all the breath leaves Cas’s lungs. His lips don’t linger long, pulling away too fast that Cas misses their warmth.

“Is that okay?” Dean asks.

Cas nods enthusiastically, “More than okay.”

Dean chuckles, leaning in to kiss him again, stronger this time and with more purpose. Cas has no idea what he’s doing so he just lets Dean kiss him, gasping into his mouth. He’s completely overwhelmed by the sensations coursing through his body. But kissing Dean feel like falling and flying all at the same time, a beautiful but lethal combination.

Dean’s hands slide down from Cas’s neck underneath his coat and suit jacket,  pulling it off of his shoulders. With fumbling fingers Cas unbuttons Dean’s shirt, pulling it off and tossing it to the floor. Dean’s lips move from his lips to his neck, kissing and sucking while he unbuttons Cas’s white button-up. Cas’s eyes flutter shut, hands gripping Dean’s arms. This is too much, he feels like he’s dying but he never wants it to stop.

“Cas,” Dean breathes, pulling away for a moment once the rest of their clothes are off to just look at him.

The room is dark, it’s late evening now and the moon shines in through the blinds in the corner of the room. Cas feels exposed like he did in heaven, but this time he feels no shame.

“Where did they hurt you?”

Cas turns around so his back is facing Dean, “Here.”

“Oh my God,” Dean whispers. His fingertips trace down the hundreds of red scars across Cas’s back.

“I’m sorry,” Dean says, leaning forward to presses his lips against one of the deeper scars, “I’m so fucking sorry.”

“No, don’t be.”

“It’s my fault that this happened, it’s because of me,” Dean chokes out, scrubbing his hand across his face.

“Dean, please don’t blame yourself. I’m okay, I’m fine. You taught me to make my own choices, to do the right thing even if that means going against heaven.”

Dean opens his mouth to retort but Cas silences him with a kiss.

“You set me free and for that I will be forever grateful.”

Dean smiles and it’s like the sun coming out, the darkened room illuminated by his brightness.

Cas kisses him again. hands sliding up Dean’s bare chest,  his skin is warm under his hands. Dean wraps his arms around Cas’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair while they exchange needy, hungry kisses. Cas is starved for this, he knows that no matter how many times Dean kisses him, he will never be able to get enough. Dean pulls away to take a breath, placing his hand at the top of Cas’s back.

“Turn around,” he says quietly. Cas moves so his back is to Dean again, looking over his shoulder at him in confusion.

“Dean, what-” Cas starts but lets out a gasp when Dean’s lips press against the scar at the top of his back near his shoulder.

Dean trails his lips down the sensitive skin of Cas’s scars, kissing every single one until there are no more left to kiss. Cas is shaking now, clenching the white sheets in his fists in attempt to ground himself. Pleasure and intense love course through his veins, he feels alive and so incredibly human. There’s too much emotion, he could explode at any second. He whimpers and Dean’s arms wrap around his waist, his face buried in Cas’s hair.

“I got you, you’re okay,” Dean murmurs, kissing the back of Cas’s neck.

Cas turns back around to face him, hands fluttering to rest on Dean’s hips. He pauses, staring into his eyes, so extraordinarily green. Cas is drowning and if this is how he dies, then at least he’ll die happy. He leans forward and kisses Dean with everything he has inside him. All the love he was afraid to express due to fear or repercussions he puts into his kisses. Dean yields to him, hands sliding up Cas’s sides in slow, easy touches exploring each other for the first time. His hands go to Cas’s shoulders giving him a slight push so Cas will lay back on the bed.  Dean straddles his hips, bumping their hardened dicks together causing Cas to let out a whimper. Dean smiles, tangling his fingers with Cas’s and starts to rock his hips. With every thrust forward a spark of arousal shoots down Cas’s spine and zips through his body. There’s a heat building in the pit of his stomach, hot and needy, he needs more, now.

“Dean,” Cas chokes out, hands gliding across Dean’s thighs, fingernails digging into his flesh.

Dean moans his name, reaching out with the hand not holding Cas’s and strokes their dicsk together. It’s too much sensation and pulls needy noises and gasps out of Cas’s throat. Cas feels the heat rising, rushing and his toes are curling. He doesn’t know what is happening but then a strangled cry of Dean’s name is leaving his lips and he’s coming so hard that he sees stars. Dean follows him soon after, back arching and moaning Cas’s name.

Cas is shaking even after Dean comes down from his orgasm. He doesn’t understand this feeling, this tired and euphoric haze settling over his senses. Dean wraps his arms around Cas, pulling him close against his chest, pressing a few kisses against his cheek.

“How was that?” Dean asks. He sounds almost a little worried that Cas won’t be impressed or that for some reason his sexual abilities are lacking.

Cas moves in Dean’s arms so he can see his face. He smiles at him, all teeth and full of happiness.

“I’ve never felt something so amazing,” Cas replies honestly. Dean’s blush is obvious even in the darkness and he gives Cas a shy smile.

“I guess we’ll have to do that again then, huh?”

“I’d like that,” Cas says, kissing Dean’s cheeks.

He turns back around, snuggling up against Dean’s back, covering Dean’s hands where they rest around his waist with his own.

~ **  
**

Cas lays in bed for awhile, Dean’s arms wrapped tightly around him, listening to Dean’ breathing change from uneven, calculated breaths to the slow, deep calmness of sleep. He watches over Dean, watching how the muscles in his face move while he sleeps, lines appearing in his forehead. Dean looks so at peace when asleep, it’s the only time Cas has ever seen him like this. He is so beautiful and Cas wishes that he had more time with Dean. The world is ending and no doubt both he or Dean will die in the final battle. Perhaps even sooner. When the angels figure out what he’s done it’s only a matter of time before they drag him back up to heaven. They will probably kill him this time.

Cas focuses on Dean’s face, counting the freckles dotting across his cheeks and admiring the way his eyelashes lay against his skin. He memorizes Dean’s face, he may never see him again. Cas wants to remember him, he needs to.

A whirring begins in his head, radio static crackling in his ears growing louder and louder by the second, the angels are coming. Cas reaches out and strokes Dean’s cheek, pressing one final kiss to his forehead.

“I love you Dean.”

A chorus of bells and flapping wings echoes throughout  the room, ten angels all armed with angel blades and looks of disgust written on their faces appear, surrounding the bed.

“Do what you will with me, but do not hurt him,” Castiel orders, defiant until the end. One of his sisters walks up to him, places a flat palm against his forehead. So he is to be smote, fitting. He looks over at Dean one last time and sees one of his brothers placing his hand against Dean’s forehead.

“I said do not harm him,” Castiel growls, pushing away from the angels to try and shield Dean, but four sets of arms hold him back.

“We will not harm him, brother, nor you. Though this fate may be worse than death.”

Cas tries to cry out to Dean to wake him, but his mouth is covered and his sister’s palm is placed against his forehead. She presses firmly down and the world spins in front of his eyes and then there is blackness.

~

Cas falls back against the bed next to Dean, limp. The angel removes her hand, smiling triumphantly, turning to look at her brother whose hand is leaving Dean’s forehead and moves over to Cas’s, fingertips brushing Cas’s brow.

“Is it done?” She asks.

He nods, removing his hand, “Dean Winchester and Castiel will not remember any of this night or the romantic feelings they had leading up to this day. Castiel has been reset to his original angelic state, emotionless, stoic, a soldier. He shouldn’t cause trouble anymore.”

The angel smirks, stepping away from the bed, “Back to the beginning.”

**Author's Note:**

> Note: The end of this is sad but I wrote this to be at the end of Season 5 on purpose so Season 6- present are Dean and Cas re-falling in love with one another. So maybe it's not as sad?


End file.
